


Father's Day

by Peggystormborn



Series: Every Time...A Karamel Anthology [7]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon compliant through end of season 3, F/M, Jeremiah Danvers Lives, KaraMel, Karamel spent 10 years in the future then came back with their kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggystormborn/pseuds/Peggystormborn
Summary: Jeremiah finally returns to his family. But finding out Mon-El is now part of that family (along with a few other small people) won't go as well as Kara and Alex hope.





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my ongoing series. Kara and Mon spent 10 years in the future, and have returned with their four children.

Father's Day

He wakes up as usual, to the sound of the ocean sloshing against the hull. He's tired. He's always tired.

Henshaw opens his door. He climbs the ladder of the ancient 50-foot trawler, boots clanking against metal, his steps echoing throughout the dark interior of the ship, down the narrow hallway. They eat breakfast in silence, per their routine. Oatmeal. He wishes he had something to put on it. Eliza used to make it with brown sugar, cinnamon and raisins. Sometimes she would even throw a little shredded coconut or slivered almonds on top just to mix things up. Only Eliza could find a way to make oatmeal exciting. This slop surely isn't. But at least it's something other than fish, which is what they have for lunch and dinner each and every day.

On deck, they check off their daily to-do list, cleaning up and maintaining this clunky old boat, not a small job for two people, even if the ship isn't very big.

He hasn't seen another human being for nearly two years, except for Henshaw. He still hates the man, hates being held captive here. And yet…it's so easy to become dependent, to fall into servitude. His routine is all he really has now.

Except…in the evenings. Each night in the early evening, Henshaw puts him to work at a monitor, tracking her.

 _Kara_.

Kryptonians emit a unique energy signature, an artifact of their yellow-sun absorption. And there are only two, at least only two not in lockup or roaming the far corners of the Earth evading capture. Kara and her cousin, Clark.

Occasionally, he can't find her. He's not sure why, though he did read some files at the DEO once (files he sort of broke into, but whatever) that she occasionally goes off-world. Other planets, other universes.

God, he's so proud of her. He wishes he could know more than her location. Is she safe? Is she happy? What about Alex? He misses his daughters so goddamned much. And Eliza too.

On this particular evening, he's just wrapping up his nightly monitoring. She's home tonight. Must not be too busy. He wonders if she's having dinner, or watching TV, or reading a book. He looks at the screen and sees her. A little point of light, bright and clear. Oddly, it looks like there are a few other, fainter blips in her apartment. He's been noticing that the past few months. Strange, it must be some kind of echo or glitch. He can't think what other explanation there could be. Whatever these things are, these four little blips, they appear to give off somewhat less than half as much energy as Kara. Not for the first time, he wracks his brain to think what kind of being--let alone four such entities--would be hanging out in Kara's loft every night. He comes up empty, yet again. Definitely a glitch, he thinks.

He hears the wind picking up, gusts causing the boat to list back and forth more and more violently, the ocean churning. No doubt about it. There's a storm coming.

He heads up to the top deck to see Henshaw gazing out at the black clouds quickly rolling towards them.

“Forecast said the chance of storms was low.” Henshaw comments. Jeremiah looks at him, surprised. Usually the only words he hears from the man (if he can be called a man, that is, since he's been cybernetically enhanced to an extreme degree) are orders barked in Jeremiah's direction, or threats to keep his captive in line. Cyborg Superman doesn't really do small talk.

“Batten down. Now,” Henshaw finishes as he stalks away to the bridge. Jeremiah begins the on-deck emergency preparations. As he's finishing, he looks back toward the horizon. Or where the horizon should be, anyway. But instead of seeing the dark sky meeting the even darker sea, it looks as though a white wall of water is coming their way at an incredible speed. A freak storm, unlike anything he's ever seen.

 _Oh, shit_.

There's no time. No time to get below, or to warn Henshaw--despite his hatred for that monster, he isn't so callous he'd leave the man to die, not intentionally. But there's no choice now. He rushes to a nearby locker, filled with life preservers. It's padlocked, the key long lost. But his own enhanced metal arm enables him to crack off the lock and open the lid. He grabs a couple of the orange floatation devices, manages to get one around his neck, just as the squall hits the craft. The ship twists sharply, and he's knocked sideways into the bin. He holds on tightly to the edge of the lid as water drenches him. As the ship tilts back upright, he frantically searches for a better purchase--something to hang onto to keep him anchored. But his higher brain knows this is an exercise in futility. The next wave is even bigger, and the ship rolls completely over. He momentarily finds himself under it, clutching something…the railing, perhaps? As the boat continues to rotate, whatever he's gripping snaps off. _I'm free_ , he thinks. _At least I get to know a little freedom again before I die._

After that, things are a blur. The life jackets he's been clutching in his regular human hand bring him to the surface, and miraculously the one around his neck has stayed put despite the fact that he didn't have time to fasten it properly. For a while, all he knows is darkness and water as he's thrown about by the thrashing sea. After some time--minutes? Hours? He's not sure--the storm departs as quickly as it came. He bobs there, utterly exhausted, barely keeping his head above the surface. He can't see much, but he's pretty sure the ship is gone. He wonders if Henshaw went down with it or managed to find something to keep him afloat, too.

After long hours, he sees the horizon start to brighten. He looks around at the surface of the ocean. Some debris is floating here and there, pieces of wood and foam. Bits of orange in the distance peeking up occasionally among the waves. The life jackets he'd loosed.

Then, another miracle. He notices a dark lump bobbing up and down, only a few hundred feet away. Though his body is spent, his robotic arm still has power. He gathers the life jackets under his chest and paddles toward the object.

_Dear God, it's the lifeboat._

He cries at the realization, though no tears come. He uses his super arm to right the boat, climb aboard, bail out the water nearly swamping the thing, and carefully remove the tarpaulin layered over it. There's a small store of potable water, some nutrition bars, and flares, as well as a still to collect fresh water.

Enough for a few days. Maybe a week. How long until someone finds him? Henshaw avoided shipping lanes and kept the craft far from land. And he can only hazard a guess as to his whereabouts. Somewhere off the coast of Mexico, away from the prying eyes of the Coast Guard. And Supergirl.

 _My girls would want me to keep hoping,_ he decides.

Three days later, his hope pays off. He wakes sometime in the afternoon (he thinks, it's too cloudy to be sure) to a sound in the distance: a ship. A cargo ship. He frantically pulls out the flares, and shoots one in the air. The low blare of the ship's horn in response is music to his ears.

An hour later, as he's sitting at a table in the freighter's galley, chewing on some beef jerky and still trying to rehydrate, he hears a familiar sound: two sets of boots quick-walking down the hall.

The door opens.

“Dad…” Alex says, teary-eyed. Kara just stares, amazed. They run over and wrap their arms around him.

“Hi, you two,” he starts. “I've missed you...so much.” He breaks down at that, and before long the three of them devolve into a big blubbery huddle, crying and laughing at the same time.

“Let's go home,” Kara finishes. “There's a lot to talk about.”

********

Home, as of right now, is going to be Alex's apartment. After what happened last time he was discovered, he certainly can't go back to the DEO. He'd betrayed them, stolen files from their database and handed them over to Lillian Luthor, all in the name of keeping Kara and Alex safe.

“Well, I spoke to Marsden,” Alex explains as she hangs up her phone. “She's agreed to a pardon for you in exchange for everything you know about what remains of Cadmus. And apparently I owe her a to-be-determined favor as well…which sounds slightly ominous, but you know what? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're here, and safe, and not under Cadmus' thumb any more. AND you're not going to prison.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Jeremiah replies. “I know I let you both down, and for that I'm so very sorry. I just wanted to protect you.”

“We know, Dad. It's okay, we're not angry. We love you. Whatever happened happened, and we're just going to move forward from here, okay?”

“It's just...I know I was wrong. I know that. And I think I've paid for it. But it's like I told you, Alex. Some things you just can't understand until you're a parent. Someday, if either or both of you ever have kids, then you'll get it.”

Kara and Alex exchange a look. How are they going to explain everything that's happened while he's been gone?

Kara’s just finished pouring out fresh coffee for her father and sister when the door opens. Mon-El walks in. “Hi, everyone. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” he offers, tentatively.

Jeremiah stiffens in his seat when he sees the Daxamite. _Great. This guy._ He'd hoped by now Kara would have found out about his sordid past and dumped him. _I guess once a liar, always a liar. And he had the audacity to be distrustful of me! After I saved his life!_

He'd nearly been caught thanks to Mon-El, who sussed out immediately that he'd been part of a Cadmus plot to steal the DEO’s alien registration list. He supposes the guy meant well...maybe…but he could have ruined everything. If Jeremiah hadn't delivered that list, Lillian would have gone after Alex and Kara. They could have been killed. Maybe Eliza too.

He wonders. Maybe he should go ahead and tell his daughter a thing or two about the guy she's sleeping with.

For now, he bides his time. He nods in Mon-El’s direction, stiffly, and takes in the younger man's change in appearance. He's got a beard now. Makes him look...older.

“Mon-El of Daxam. Hope things are well.” He tries to be cordial for now, at least.

“I'm fine, just concerned about your well-being,” the Daxamite replies. “I understand Alex has given you a clean bill of health. How are you otherwise?”

“Fine, just glad to be home. Back with _my_ girls.” He hits the word “my” a little too hard, a little possessively. Compensating, he smiles warmly at his daughters.

“Well, that's wonderful news. We're so glad to have you back. Kara, can I talk to you for just a second?” Mon-El turns to his wife (knowing, of course, that Jeremiah probably presumes they're still just dating) and she gives her adoptive father a quick smile and disappears with her mate into the kitchen.

Jeremiah grumbles a bit, internally. _He's probably trying to convince her this is another trick. That I'm going to betray them again. Or that I'm not worth saving. Well, talk all you want, jackass. I'm not going anywhere. Not again. Not ever._

In the kitchen, Kara and Mon-El discuss next steps. “I don't know, babe. I really think maybe honesty is the best policy here. I don't want to get off on the wrong foot with him again.” Mon-El worries. “And he didn't look particularly happy to see me just now. Plus don't you think he'll be excited to find out about…you know, a few certain someones?”

“Yes, love, eventually. But I think we need to ease him into all this. Think how much of an adjustment it was for Alex, Eliza, even James and Clark. To realize how much they'd missed. And they at least were prepared for it. You know what I mean? It's just…a lot.”

“Okay. Say, is Eliza already on her way here? Do you want me to go get her?”

“It's okay, Clark's picking her up. Actually, I think I hear...”

As if on cue, Superman himself flies in through the open balcony door and sets Eliza down.

Everyone gets a little misty-eyed when Jeremiah and Eliza see each other. There's hugging and even a small kiss, and eventually everyone else decides to leave them be for a bit. Alex, Kara and Mon-El are expected at the DEO anyway. Clark lingers a bit, but eventually he too must head off back to Metropolis.

It's a bit awkward at first, Eliza just telling him about her work, and about Midvale, though there isn't much to say there since very little ever changes in their small town. Jeremiah recounts his life on that miserable rust bucket of a ship, and his terrifying escape as the ship sank.

“I know last time…you talked about wanting to pick up where we left off…” she begins, at last.

“I remember. And you said this would have to be something new.”

“I…still feel that way.”

“You don't…hate me? For what I did?”

“Oh, Jeremiah, of course not! I could never hate you! I don't agree with what you did, but…”

“I know. I know I disappointed all of you.”

“...Yes. You did. You shouldn't have trusted…helped…that horrible woman.” She's silent for a moment before continuing. “But I know you did what you did out of love. And probably some desperation, too. I...can't imagine what you must have been through.”

“It doesn't matter now. I'm here. They don't have a hold on me anymore. I'm...free.”

Eliza lets out a deep breath and hugs him. “Let's see how things go here…for a while, and then maybe we can talk about you coming back to Midvale.”

“Really?”

“Well, you're still my husband, aren't you?”

“Yes. I mean, I'd like to be.”

“Okay, then. It'll take time, but we'll figure it out.”

Jeremiah wraps his arms around her, welling up again with relief. _Everything is going to be okay. I have Eliza, Alex has Maggie, and I'm sure after Kara dumps that idiot we can find her some nice, normal guy._

********

The next day, Alex has to go to work. She plants a kiss on her sleeping father's head as he dozes on the couch. He must be so exhausted. Before she leaves, she opens up her laptop and logs into the National City Tribune, so he can try and get caught up on the state of the world at least. When he wakes an hour or so later he sees the computer there. Of course, the first thing he does is search through Kara's articles. And ones about her. He's amazed by everything she's worked on, both as Supergirl and as Kara the reporter. Attacks on the city, evil Kryptonians, even…wait, what's this? An invasion by Daxamites? _Son of a bitch, I knew those people were evil._

He finds a video of Rhea in all her glory. Trying to enslave humanity. He gets so upset he has to stop reading. But not before seeing one photo of Mon-El holding an alien weapon in his hands. The caption reads “A Daxamite holding a staff rifle, a traditional weapon of alien origin.” _I KNEW IT. That boy is no good. He was probably here to pave the way for the invasion. And even if he wasn't, I'd be willing to bet they were here because of him. Why else would his mother come to Earth and try to take over?_ He clicks through images. There's another, grainy as though taken through a telephoto lens, of Kara and Rhea fighting on a rooftop. In the shot, it looks like Rhea is nearly getting the best of Kara. And there, in the corner of the shot, is the back of Mon-El's head. Standing there, letting her fight and doing nothing. _Son of a bitch_.

There's a knock on the door just then. When he opens it, Jeremiah is surprised to see his old friend J'onn J’onzz standing before him. Still looking like Hank Henshaw. The Martian had assumed Henshaw’s identity many years ago, thinking him dead.

“I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that face you wear,” Jeremiah blurts.

“Is this better?” J'onn enters the apartment and reverts to his Martian self: tall, green, and very alien.

“Thanks, J'onn. That...helps.”

“He's dead then? The real Henshaw, I mean?”

“I think so. I didn't see him after the ship went down and there was only the one lifeboat.”

“That's…good.”

“So, how are things? With you?”

“Not bad. I miss the DEO, miss the day to day of working with the girls, but…”

“Wait, what do you mean? You left?”

“Yes…didn't Alex and Kara tell you? Alex is the director now.”

“No, I…well, I get the sense they're doling out information kind of…piecemeal. They keep dancing around my questions and saying we'll talk about it later.”

“I can understand that. A lot has happened.”

“J'onn, what am I missing? Is there something bad I need to know about?”

“Not bad, just...a lot to take in.”

“Can't you just tell me? I think I'd rather have the band aid ripped off than play this waiting game.”

“Sorry, they have their reasons.”

“Okay. Well, I've been trying to catch up on the news at least. Sounds like you have been through a lot. Dark Kryptonians? Worldkillers? And I read about…the, uh, Daxamite invasion.” He lowers his voice here, gravely. J'onn gives him a funny look for a moment (made more humorous considering his face is already green and decidedly unusual-looking). He's not sure why this particular incident seems of greater concern than any of the other times Kara has had to save the world.

“...Well, thanks to your daughters, National City is peaceful. And safer than it's ever been.”

“I know. I couldn't be more proud. And thank you, as always, for taking care of them.”

J'onn laughs. “They certainly don't need me to take care of them, but it's an honor to be a part of their lives.”

“Well, looking out for them, I mean.”

“Of course.”

********

A few days pass, more or less the same. Alex goes to work. Sometimes Kara, Eliza or J’onn stops by to spend time with him during the day. But there's so much they're not saying, and he's starting get frustrated.

Finally, it's Saturday. Alex had planned to stay with him all day but gets called in by someone named Pam to deal with a personnel issue. Apparently Agent Schott was caught in a compromising situation with his new girlfriend in a supply closet somewhere. Alex apologizes profusely, then gives him a spare key and tells him he should go for a walk if he wants, see the City, or a movie, get a cup of coffee, whatever.

Jeremiah, of course, has other ideas. He grabs a jacket, puts the keys in his pocket, and heads directly to Kara's apartment.

He knocks, with some excitement. He hasn't been here in a long time. And her place is full of photos, memories, reminders of the life he lost but has now, finally, regained. When the front door opens, he expects to see Kara. His smile fades with disappointment when he sees Mon-El standing there instead.

“Jeremiah, hello. What…brings you by? Kara's not here,” he finishes quickly. The Daxamite doesn't open the door any further than necessary. It's almost as though he's... hiding something. Jeremiah's dad senses are suddenly on high alert.

“I see. Do you mind if I wait for her here?”

“Um, well, it might be a while. You know, a superhero’s work is never done.” Mon forces a smile, trying to inject some levity into the situation, and fails miserably.

“That's fine.” Jeremiah pushes the door open with his cyborg arm, “I’ll just grab a book. Or a…magazine, maybe.” The door gives easily as the Daxamite steps aside. But Jeremiah feels a gust of air for a moment and when he steps into the loft he realizes the curtains to the bedroom are swinging slightly, as though they've just been closed in a hurry. By someone with super speed. What the hell is he hiding in there?

Of course. He's cheating on Kara. _He has some floozy back there in my daughter's bed!_ God, he knew the man was a son of a bitch, but this is even worse than he'd feared.

Jeremiah ambles over to a bookshelf, pretends to peruse the titles. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mon-El pull out his phone, send a text to someone. Boy sure looks nervous. Jeremiah decides to have a little fun with him.

“Soooo…how long has it been now? That you two have been together?”

“Um…” Mon-El has to think for a moment. “Uh, about…three years?” Jeremiah takes note. Seriously? This is basic stuff, man. Bet he forgets their anniversary, too.

“Long time. Making my daughter happy, I assume?”

“I like to think so.”

“You…live here, then?”

“I do, yes.” Mon shuffles toward the couch and scoots something under it with his foot.

“What do you, uh, do in your spare time?”

“Don't have a huge amount of that. But I guess...I like to read. And cook.”

“Really? Been reading anything good lately?” Jeremiah goes to grab a copy of Wuthering Heights before noticing a framed photograph on the next shelf up. Kara is in it, and Mon-El, and their friend Winn, and J'onn, and about a dozen other people he doesn't recognize. One dark haired woman leans her head against Mon-El’s shoulder.

Hmm...is that her? The one currently occupying the bedroom of this very loft?

“Hey, looks like an interesting group here. Who are all these people?” He indicates the photo.

The Daxamite looks startled for a second, then replies, “Oh, just some hero friends of ours.”

“Really? I’d like to meet more of Kara's friends. Are they from around here?”

“Uh, no, they live pretty far away.”

“I see.” Yeah, right.

Jeremiah grabs a couple of books at random, without even looking, and strolls over toward the couch. He's about to sit down, but when he sees the guilty look on Mon-El’s face, he stops himself.

“All right, can we stop beating around the bush? I know what you're hiding.”

He sees the younger man gulp. “Wh…what do you mean?”

“Who is she?”

“What? Who are you talking about?” Wow, a genuine-seeming look of confusion. Guess he's a pretty practiced liar.

“I told you once I knew who you were. You think I haven't figured out what's going on here?”

“I'm honestly not sure what to say, Jeremiah.”

“Well, I believe _that_ at least.”

“Look, I don't know what you think it is you know, but…”

“What's behind the curtain, hmm?” he moves toward the bedroom, intent on pulling back that curtain and catching this lying asshole in the act. Mon-El moves to stand between him and the room.

“Jeremiah, I'm sorry. I can't let you go back there.”

“Why? Is your little side piece not decent yet?”

“Whoa! I'm not sure where that came from, but you have got the wrong idea, I swear.”

“Have I? Then why not just show me?”

“You're…gonna have to talk to Kara.”

“I WILL, JACKASS!” He's yelling now, and tears begin to form behind his eyes. “And whoever’s back there can get COMFORTABLE, because I'm not leaving until my daughter comes home and I can prove to her what a piece of TRASH her boyfriend is.”

He flops down on the couch, as Mon-El stands there staring, shellshocked. As his body hits the couch, he hears an unmistakable sound.

SQUEEEEEEEEAAAAKK…

Confused, he reaches under the cushion, and pulls out...a rubber frog.

“What is this? Did you guys get a dog or something?” he muses, baffled.

“...No.”

Utterly confused, Jeremiah looks at the Daxamite, then at the books in his hand.

One is a well-worn copy of The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe, complete with crayon scribbles on the cover. The name ALLIE is printed inside the cover.

The other is a photo album.

He flips it open, a little fearful.

There they are. Baby pictures, birthdays, first steps, family portraits. The dark-haired woman and Winn are in a bunch of them, clutching little hands and contorting their faces in funny ways to make the children smile.

“What the hell is this, Mon-El?” he says weakly, anger draining out of him. He feels the loss of that anger as it's slowly replaced by another emotion.

 _Grief_.

Sighing heavily, Mon-El turns around, steps towards the bedroom, and pulls back the curtain.Stuffed animals and various other toys litter the bed, hastily thrown there at super speed. And where Kara's hope chest used to be there's now a crib…containing a soundly-sleeping baby.

“Kara and Alex were trying to find a way to ease you into this. I'm sorry, we didn't want you to get blindsided.”

“Blindsided by what, that you knocked up my daughter?” Despite this revelation, he wants…needs to find some way to make Mon-El the bad guy.

Just then, Kara flies up, opens the window, and lands in the apartment.

She takes one look at the room, her husband, her sleeping child and her father, and realizes she's too late.

“Jeremiah, I'm so sorry. We should have told you, we were just worried it would be too much all at once.”

“How? How can you possibly have all these kids? I only just saw you two years ago!”

“We sort of…time traveled. We spent ten years in the 31st century. Well, technically it was seventeen for Mon-El.”

“What? You…what?”

Kara picks up her phone and dials Alex. “Hi, sis. He's here. Can you bring up the kids? Yeah...He knows.”

Hanging up, she approaches her husband. There's a small device on the table next to him. She waves her hand over it, and a hologram flickers into life. Their wedding, Winn officiating, with a beautiful lake in the background and crystal staircases on either side.

“Dad, Mon-El and I have been married for eight years. We had a little…vow renewal when we came home, but...we didn't know where you were.”

“How…how many kids do you have?”

“Four. Allie, she's five. The twins, Zora and Xander, they just turned three. And John, the baby, he's one. We named Xander after Alex and you. Alexander Jeremiah Danvers Zor-El.

As he's staring at her, the dam breaks. Tears spill forth, uncontrollably. He can't stand it. It's bad enough he missed so much of Kara and Alex's lives, their childhoods, but now Kara's gone and gotten married, had her own family...all without him.

It's too much.

He bolts to the door, and just as he's opening it, he sees Alex, standing there with, he presumes, his other three...grandchildren. A word he just can't process right now.

He stares daggers at Alex. “And how many do you and Maggie have, huh? Eleven?”

“Dad, Maggie and I...broke up. I'm actually working on an adoption now.”

“Well, that's great. Excuse me.” He marches right past the four Danverses in the hallway and takes the stairs down and out of the building.

He isn't sure where to go. After walking around the City for an hour or so, he finally stumbles upon a working pay phone. Possibly the last one in National City.

“Will miracles never cease,” he says aloud.

There's only one number he can think to call.

“Hello?” Eliza picks up.

“Why didn't you tell me? About our grandchildren?” He's kept his tears at bay for the last hour, but now he's audibly sobbing again.

“You know why, Jeremiah. This is why.”

“How could you let her leave for so long? How could you let her marry that…DAXAMITE!”

“Jeremiah, listen to yourself. Let her? She's a grown woman. She can make her own choices. And honestly, were you expecting her to have a normal life? Look, I would have liked to have been there with her through getting married, having babies. But honey, think about what a miracle it is that she got to do those things at all! I never thought she'd be able to have biological children. I mean, the only man of her kind here is Clark! She's been so lonely for so long. Isn't it wonderful she found someone to share a life with?”

“But he's...he's…”

“He's what? Are you still angry about him being suspicious of you? You know he was just worried about Kara. And well, honey, I hate to say it but it's not like he was wrong.”

“But he's the Prince of Daxam! Does Kara even know that?”

“Of course, sweetie. That came out a long time ago. They worked through it. Just like you and I are going to work through our issues.”

“His…his mother invaded Earth, though! You don't think he had something to do with that? And I saw him…letting Kara fight his battles for him.”

“Are you really blaming him for having bad parents? Talk to your daughters about that. I'm sure they'll tell you he not only fought with Kara but he nearly died protecting her, and the Earth. That young man has been through a lot of terrible things, just like you have. Things you don't know about. He's sacrificed a great deal, and he's fiercely protective of those children. Frankly, I think you might find you have a lot more in common than you realize. Not least of which is that you both love Kara and Alex.”

 _Damn it. God damn it_. Jeremiah sighs, taking in her words. “I guess I owe him an apology.”

“Why, what did you do?”

“I sort of...accused him of cheating on Kara. But it turned out he was just hiding...the...baby,” he says, sheepishly and with an air of bewilderment. He can't quite wrap his head around all this. It's baffling.

“Well, why don't you head back. I'll call the girls and let them know you're coming.”

“I love you, Eliza. I'm sorry about this. About lots of things.”

“I know. Now go tell your daughters that.”

When he gets back to the loft, Kara answers the door and throws her arms around him. Alex takes a break from what appears to be a rousing game of Candy Land with the older children, while the baby is in his high chair being fed Cheerios and yogurt by...his father.

“Dad, we were so worried. Please, please don't take off like that. I know you're upset, and we're sorry we kept things from you, but…” Alex starts.

“Yes, we have a rule in this family. We don't walk away angry,” Kara adds authoritatively.

“No, we stay put and keep yelling.” Jeremiah finishes. An old family joke. “Look, I'm really sorry, everyone. And Mon-El, I apologize, truly, for all those terrible things I said. And…accusing you of being unfaithful.”

“Whoa, back up, you did what?” Kara starts.

“Babe, it's okay. Sir, I accept your apology.”

“It's not okay. I realize now that I was…projecting my own feelings of guilt and anger at myself onto you.”

The Daxamite nods solemnly.

“Look, guys. You're heroes. All of you. You always find a way to protect others without making the kinds of moral compromises I made. Without trusting people like Lillian Luthor.”

“Jeremiah, I think we do understand better now. Now that Mon-El and I are parents, and Alex is working on adopting. We get what it means to put your children first. But we have to trust in each other, too. We would have helped you figure out how to defeat her.”

“I realize that now.” Kara and Alex hug Jeremiah and he melts a little in their embrace.

Mon-El stands up, plucks John out of his chair, wipes all the yogurt off the child's face, and brings him over to Jeremiah. “Why don't you come get to know your grandkids. They're pretty great, if I do say so myself.”

Jeremiah nods and holds out his hands to accept the baby. John holds out his strong Daxatonian baby arms and clutches his grandfather around the neck. The new grandpa looks into the child's eyes--Kara's eyes, clear blue like the ocean--and wells up with about a thousand emotions simultaneously. Joy, pride, guilt, loss…

But mostly love.

He smiles, and sits down at the table to play Candy Land.

********

“So what exactly does Father's Day entail, then?” the alien father of four asks while riding shotgun, Kara at the wheel of what appears to be a Dodge Grand Caravan.

“You know what? I'm not exactly sure. We only had a couple before Jeremiah disappeared and I don't really remember,” his wife replies.

“Guys, we're just going to have a little barbecue. And I think Allie, Zora and Xander made some cute little presents at DEO day care to bestow upon you,” Alex pipes in from the back seat.

“Oh! Wait, now I remember. Jeremiah, didn't we give you really ugly tie one year?”

“I think I gave him like eight ugly ties at various points growing up. And he wore them,” Alex snickers.

“That I did. Proudly. Although if you ever want to borrow any of them, Mon-El, you're more than welcome,” Jeremiah jokes. “The one with the unicorns on it is my particular favorite.”

“I'll keep that in mind. But I'm sure my kids have something very fashionable in that gift bag back there, don't you guys?” the Daxamite says.

“Izza mug!” Xander blurts.

“Shhh! It's s’posed to be a surprise, silly!” Allie chides her brother.

“I picked. Issss purpo! Red and boo make purpo!” Zora chimes in.

Allie rolls her eyes like an old pro. “Oh well, guess the cat's out of the bed!”

“It's bag, sweetie. Cat's out of the bag,” Aunt Alex corrects.

“Why would a cat be in a bag?” Allie knits her eyebrows together, clearly picturing some poor kitten trapped in a shopping bag.

“It's just a figure of speech, love,” her mother explains. “I know some of them sound a little funny.”

“I guess. Anyway, we couldn't agree on red or blue since you wear both, Dad, so Zora said it should be purple. She made a good choice.” Allie reaches over to pat her little sister on the head, and Zora beams with pride.

“Are we dere yet?” Xander complains.

“Guess they all learn that one sooner or later,” Jeremiah chuckles.

“Soon, sweetie,” Kara soothes her son. “Just another few minutes.”

“I can't believe you let her drive, Mon-El,” Alex complains. “You know she's not a great driver.”

“Hey!” Kara protests.

“Lady asked for the keys,” explains Mon-El.

“This thing doesn't have keys, it's a spaceship,” Alex counters.

“Wait, it's a what?” Jeremiah balks at this information.

“I borrowed it from J'onn. It's how he got here from Mars,” Kara explains.

“So we're not actually sitting in a minivan right now?”

“Technically, no. But don't worry. This thing took us 5 light years to Argo, I'm sure it can manage another 15 minutes to Midvale.”

When they arrive, they unload everyone from the not-a-van, expecting to see Eliza standing on the porch with open arms. Instead, they find the house quiet and the door open. Alarmed, Kara and Mon-El enter first.

Standing in the living room, holding a gun to Eliza's head as she sits on the living room couch, is Hank Henshaw.

“Jeremiah!” He yells when he sees them. “You'd better get your ass in here if you know what's good for your family!”

Jeremiah enters calmly, Alex shepherding the children back toward the car.

“You're alive. How?” he wonders. “I saw the ship go down.”

“I went down with it. But luckily my enhancements include life support and an emergency beacon, remember? Some associates of mine sent a drone down to retrieve me.”

“You just won't die, will you?”

“Wasn’t planning on it. But your wife here will unless you come with me. I require your particular expertise in maintaining my biomechanical processes.”

“Look, I'll go with you. Let's just walk out of here right now and leave my family be, huh?”

“Good answer. But I'm afraid I'll have to bring Eliza here along until we are clear of your daughter and, uh, son in law? Is that it? My, my. Looks like life really went on without you, didn't it?”

“You son of a bitch.”

“You're goddamned right. Lead the way, Blondie…”

Just then, Allie whooshes in from the rear of the house, having clearly snuck around and in the back door.

“YOU LEAVE MY GRANDMA ALONE!” She runs over and bites the calf of the man wearing Papa J'onn's face. Luckily, this appears to be one of the few parts of him that's still flesh and bone, and they hear a primal scream escape from him. In the split second that he's distracted, Kara speeds to place herself in the line of fire, grabbing Henshaw's gun, while Mon-El runs to scoop up their daughter and get her away from this monster.

Henshaw may have lost his gun, and sustained a serious injury, but he's not out yet. He throws a punch at Kara, who blocks and manages to kick him back against the wall. Kara goes to approach her opponent, when out of the corner of her eye she sees two projectiles connected to wires flying through the air. She follows the wires back to…Eliza. She's managed to retrieve the taser gun she keeps for emergencies like this.

Henshaw, hit by a sudden, massive jolt of electricity, convulses and falls to the ground. Kara takes a second to look at her Earth mother, taser in hand, and then runs outside to find her sister, who luckily always has a pair of Nth metal handcuffs handy.

Cuffed and shackled, Mon-El and Kara whisk him directly to the DEO where he's promptly put in containment.

When they return, the other more familiar version of Hank Henshaw has arrived, finally, and is already grilling up some burgers while Alex, Eliza and Jeremiah watch the children at play.

“Sorry I was late,” he apologizes. “I hear I missed some excitement.”

“Yes, Allie took her first foray into superheroing, which we are going to have a little TALK ABOUT LATER, YOUNG LADY.” Kara raises her voice a bit to let her daughter know she's not thrilled about the younger blonde's pint-sized intervention.

“It's all right. We're all fine. And how about I speak to her, hmm? I have some experience dealing with superpowered little girls,” Jeremiah comforts his younger daughter, letting her know it's going to be okay. That she's not in this alone.

“Thanks, Dad.” She hugs him and trots over to play tag with the children, leaving her husband and father alone together.

“I want to thank you too, Mon-El,” Jeremiah offers.

“For what?”

“For putting up with my bullshit, for one thing. And for making Kara so happy. For giving her this life, this family. Eliza was right, you two finding each other…well, maybe it was written in the stars. So to speak. And I promise you, I'll always be here for you both, and for my grandkids.”

“I appreciate that.”

“So, I'm guessing being away for so long in the future means you could use a little coaching at the ins and outs of being a 21st century Earth dad, huh?”

“Like, what do you mean?”

“Well, how are you at grilling burgers? That's a tried and true American Dad tradition.”

Mon-El laughs out loud. “Uh, I've only ever cooked food in a kitchen, actually.”

“Well, manning a barbecue is my superpower, so let me show you how it's done.”

“Thanks, Jeremiah, that would be great.”

“You're welcome, son.”


End file.
